


Not What He Had In Mind

by RickyDickyNegan



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickyDickyNegan/pseuds/RickyDickyNegan
Summary: He forced himself beyond his point of breaking. He focused on the pain. The burning was a cruel reminder he was alive.





	Not What He Had In Mind

**Author's Note:**

> More Tony and Peter angst. Spider-son and Iron Dad.

The air was stale when Peter started gasping at it, and he could barely make out the distant wail of sirens. The world spun when he lifted his head, and Peter's first thought was that this wasn't what he had in mind when he said to his mentor he wanted to look out for the little guy.

He tried to orientate himself. He needed to move. _Needed_ to get up. All at once his memories came slamming back to him. In the red lights flashing around him, Peter could make out the remains of the control room they had been standing in. The hull windows were cracked, ready to buckle, and purge the contents of the room out into space.

Then he noticed that familiar scent, and the fact the floor shouldn't have been that comfortable. Those brown eyes widened, and his vision wavered as Peter took in the sight of a broken body and damaged armour under him.

_No. No. No. No. Mr Stark._

“Mr Stark?” Peter's voice rasped out. Tony wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing. Peter struggled to spread his fingers against Tony's throat to find a pulse, but his heart was sluggishly beating. Peter's head was pounding, or was that his heart? Peter's hands slipped through the blood; still warm. Tony was still warm.  
“You've got to wake up Mr Stark,” Peter husked out roughly, too many emotions in his voice to pinpoint the motivation.

Peter struggled, body burning in protest against the notion of moving. He forced himself beyond his point of breaking. He focused on the pain. The burning was a cruel reminder he was alive. Peter made it to his knees, swallowing the bile in his throat as he wrapped an arm around the lifeless Iron Man and hauled Tony's suit covered frame upwards. Peter's muscles screamed and he could feel blood dripping down his back as he threw Tony's weight over his shoulder. One hand kept hold of Tony, while the other was used to catch his balance on the debris around him.

_Don't you dare die._

The cracks along the hull fractured further, and Peter was gasping for air as he pulled his ass from the rubble. Like a demon crawling out the pits of hell. Somewhere behind him the glass ruptured, and there was a shrill hissing around him. Peter pushed forward, running on nothing more than the throbbing ache of raw determination.

He hauled them out of the control room, staggering as he fell to one knee and sprawled Tony's body onto the floor. Peter turned, wild eyes darting back to the room behind them as the the glass exploded and an alarm hammered in to his mind. He lurched forward and slammed a bloody fist into the emergency lock - watching in a stunned silence as a set of security doors slammed shut while the room beyond was ripped inside out by the vacuum of space.

He laughed, shaken, before turning back to Tony. In the light, Peter could make out the damage to the suit. Blood was running down Tony's face from the cut above his left eyebrow and the ragged cut in his bottom lip. Peter moved back to Tony's body, sinking to his knees and fumbling with the suit release buttons. Seconds passed before the suit opened and Peter could see the blood staining Tony's grey t-shirt as he grabbed the fabric to rip it clean up the middle. His fingers dragged over the laceration along Tony's stomach.

Peter was praying as he placed his hands over Tony's chest and started throwing his weight into compressions. He had seen Mr Stark doing this, once, so very long ago.

He counted between the compressions, rasping out pleas at Tony until he reached thirty. Peter thought it was thirty. Oh god he was bad at this life saving thing. Then Peter placed a hand on Tony's forehead, tipping his head back as he lifted his mentor's chin. His fingers and the adjacent thumb pinched Tony's nose and he leaned down to force air into his mouth. The taste of copper infiltrated Peter's mouth, nearly stopping his actions. Tony's chest rose and fell with the action twice, before Peter returned to compressing his chest.

 _Come on, Mr Stark!_  He was struggling, and barely realised the irony of his own actions. _When_ _had he ever fought to keep someone_ _alive?_ It wasn't working. _It wasn't working._

There was something frantic in the way Peter pressed down on Tony's chest, trying to keep the rhythm right, trying to keep himself from breaking Tony's ribs. He hadn't really thought about just how fragile and vulnerable Mr Stark was until that moment.

Peter's eyes were blurring and burning with tears and he was shouting obscenities because this just couldn't be happening.

His breathing was shallow and Peter could hear his heart pounding in his ears. But none of it mattered. He was so caught up in checking again for a pulse, she didn't notice the rise of Tony's chest. Then Peter was too busy trying to force his hands to set themselves back on Tony's chest. His body was shaking, when Peter noticed a set of brown eyes rolling up to stare back at him in a confused, disoriented daze.

Tony simply winced, coughing and breathing heavily and it was all Peter could do to lean down and wrap his arms tightly around Tony in a hug. “If you _ever_  do that to me again, I'll activate instant kill mode Mr Stark,”


End file.
